Only The Innocent Have Wings
by emmareth
Summary: Faster and faster, he ran, death coming after him, snapping sharp at his heels. Running into the night, Draco knew only one thing and that was this: when death is behind you, when it hungers for your soul, only the innocent have wings.


**Chapter One**

I ran - I ran as if Fenrir Greyback was chasing me, myself. Amid the bangs and confusion, I could hear Severus battling with Potter. _Potter!_ What was he doing there? My mind went hurtling backwards in time, taking me to a safer place - a safer existence, where I almost still had hope.

In my minds eye, I could still see Dumbledore standing there, looking too weak, too old. I could see him, slunk; his back against the wall, and my mind recalled the two broomsticks lying in the corner. Could Potter of been there? Could he of seen? Was he there watching me fail, as he had so many times before? As I continued running, the more sure I became that this was the truth of things. Once again, Potter had seen me fail - _Damn him!_

However, I did not have time to dwindle over thoughts of Potter, Snape would see to him. Now, I had to concentrate on fleeing, on escaping Voldemort's wrath! After all, I had failed; I could not kill that weak, old wizard. A wizard who is skin was so waxy pale, a wizard who looked like he would drop at any minute, a wizard who had offered me hope. But, alas, now all hope was gone.

I ran forward, over the lawn and out through Hogwarts imposing main gates. My heart beat wildly and my thoughts were becoming hysterical. _Mother_, I thought. I _must_ reach mother - who knew what the fiend would do when he reached her? I, Draco Malfoy had failed. When it had come down to it, I couldn't find the strength to kill the old man, and I knew he would make me pay. Whether at the cost of my life, or my mothers, I did not know. But, whichever way, I knew it would cost me dearly. Not even, Snape, my one time mentor, father's dubious friend, Voldemort's right hand man, could save me now.

Running through the gates, onwards to an uncertain future; stumbling, and breath hitching, I skidded slowly to a halt. My mind raced with thoughts of mother; mother and how I might reach her, and it appeared Appararation as my only option. _Holy Circe and blasted father Merlin!_ Being, not yet seventeen, and occupied by other more time-consuming thoughts these last few terms - I had not been able yet to master the art of Apparation.

I twisted my head round, nervous and agitated, only to see Snape running across the lawn, Hippogriff following him, beating its wings furiously as it pursued. Quite absurdly, I shuddered involuntary. Ever since, that episode in Care of Magical Creatures class, I had never cared for Hippogriffs.

I stood, helpless, incapacitated. I needed help, I needed guidance, but, as I watched Snape and remembered the cold way he delivered the curse, I doubted he would be the one to save me. Surely, that cold, calculating man would throw me straight into the arms of Lord Voldemort!

The mark on my inner arm itched, as if it was a signal for me to keep moving, and I clutched my head in my hands, emitting a silent scream. My frustration and helplessness blinded me, making it hard for me to think coherent thoughts. One thought jogged my mind, though: _Mother_, I must get to mother...

Scanning my current options and coming up with only the one thought, I knew Apparition was the only option for me. Snape, I could not, dared not, trust and I had to do something soon. I had the find the bravery in me, I had to find the will to be strong.

My mother popped into my thoughts again; her image burning brightly behind my eyes, as if she were calling out to me, telling me to come home. I must go to her, find mother, and take her to safety...I would Apparate us both.

Shrugging, all my fears aside, I began to concentrate. What was it that stupid fellow thought us? The three Ds! 'Destination, Determination and Deliberation!' I concentrated with all my might, thinking of home and mother.

_Home...mother...Malfoy mansion_!

I concentrated on as hard as I might. However, as I was concentrating, determined on my purpose, Snape came running through the gates.

"Draco," he hissed, irritably, "Don't do anything foolish - You can't help your mother now..."

But, as he hissed those words, I felt the world disappear from me, as I struggled for mortal breath. The world disappeared before me, becoming a distant blur, and as a feeling of disorientation overcame me, I realised, for the first time in my life, I was, Disapparating. My world turned black, and I felt the air being forced out of my lungs - and just when I thought this meant death or splicing, I stumbled onto a cobble path.

---

My immediate thought, as I staggered backwards, my shoulder glancing off the wall, was this is not home. I glanced down the old, deprecated street, soon realising that I was in an unknown street. Despair over came me. Sliding down the wall, I hid my face in my hands. Where was I? What had I done? How _far _was I from home?

I peeked from behind my fingers, into the dark, desolate street and although far almost paralysed me, a voice in my head kept whispering, '_you must be near home.'_ Stepping forward, I began to walk slowly forwards and kept to the shadows: the street was narrow and uneven, causing me to stumble too many a time, and in my overwrought state of mind, the long journey forward seemed never-ending. However, eventually, I stumbled into the main road.

In the centre of the town stood a church with a luminous clock face high in its tower. Above the silly Muggle church, it chimed the hour loudly. I jumped - my nerves on edge.

"Blasted Muggle timepiece!" I snapped, thankful that there was no one around to hear my irritated outburst, or to see my fear. However, despite my ire and frayed nerves, the clock striking in the church tower had seemed familiar to me, and had brought back vague recollections.

I am not far, I am nearly home, I had thought, as recognition of the nearby Muggle town had come back to me.

Suddenly, I froze. I heard click-clacking footsteps approaching. A young girl stepped out of an alleyway and began tottering my way. I stood frozen as she inched closer -and the closer that she came - I could see that she was no young girl, but an older woman painted up as an innocent.

"Good day to you, sir," she spoke, in a wheedling tone. "Would you care for my services?" Her words were pronounced harshly and, from her vulgar leer, I could tell she was nothing but a cheep Muggle whore.

"Get away from me woman." I spat. "Don't you know who I am?" p 

The woman merely gave out a hoarse chuckle, stating that she knew only that I was a young, pretty boy.

My hand delved into my robes, reaching for my wand. But, before I could withdraw it entirely, the woman cackled harshly, disrespecting, not understanding, the ominous intent of my action.

"Well, dearie," the old hag cackled; her harsh tone grating, making me shudder inside. "You don't have to point your stick at me; I know when I'm not appreciated..."

I shuddered again. The mortal hag staggered way from me. Staggering to the side, I could smell the reeking odour of gin reeking off her. The pungent smell made me reel again and feeling nauseous, I slumped against the wall, feeling all the hope drain out from me.

Sagged against the wall, despairing and nauseous; feeling hopeless and weak, I sank into deepest despair.

_Where was I, close to home? Would I find the strength to carry me onwards?_

Cowered, lost in thoughts of despair, lost in thoughts of failure, I barely heard it when a voice asked me softly, "A-Are you all right?"


End file.
